Untitled Ficlets
by smallearthcat
Summary: Assorted ficlets I wrote based on prompts between February and April 2010.


PROMPT: MEMORY

Jim's memory has always been good, exceptionally good, even, which is a big part of why people seem to think he's a genius. He's never thought of himself that way, just figured he had a good head for details. He can study engineering or history, or practically anything else you could think of, and still remember the bulk of it years later.

It's a blessing most of the time, allowing him to fly through most classes with relative ease, keeping him from offending alien races accidentally, and dozens of other things. But it's not all good, and sometimes he finds himself wishing he could just forget things once in awhile. Things like birthdays as a kid spent alone, being rejected by the first girl he ever liked, failing out of college because he just didn't care.

But no, he remembers it all, whether he wants to or not. Sometimes the memories are overwhelming, but more often they just wait in his subconscious until the right (or wrong) time to resurface. Maybe one day he'll start forgetting things, maybe not. But for now, standing on the bridge of his _very own ship_ as they prepare to leave on their first mission, he'll just be glad to remember moments like these.

PROMPT: KANSAS

Kirk has always had strange taste in music (well, he never thought it was strange until other kids had mocked him for it), and he generally tries not to advertise that fact too much. He's perfectly happy listening to the latest song by Galactic Cannibalism or whoever the hell is actually popular now, but nothing can quite compare to good old 20th century rock.

As a teen, he'd spent more than his fair share of time hunting down songs and bands that had the sound he was looking for. With the passing of time, though, it's become a hobby he doesn't have nearly enough time for, and so it's fallen by the wayside. Being a starship captain doesn't exactly lend a lot of free time.

Right now, though, he's got an entire week with nothing to do but hang around Starbase 57 while they go through massive ship repairs. Well, that's not entirely true. He's got paperwork to catch up on, and he knows he'll get bored before the week is out and end up lending a hand to whomever wants it, but for now the thought of seven days of uninterrupted freedom is glorious. Because not only has Ensign Ricky recommended a 20th century rock band he's never heard about, but Kirk actually has the time to follow up on it.

The name of the band is Kansas, amusingly enough. Why anyone would want to name their band after a nowhere state like Kansas (and yes, he realizes the irony in ragging on a state that's so much like Iowa, but really, Kansas just isn't that impressive), he isn't sure. It's easy enough to pull up their discography, which is pretty impressive; they've got albums spanning nearly forty years.

The next several hours are spent listening to as much as he can, and they actually turn out to be pretty decent. He makes a mental note to put Carry On Wayward Son, Point of Know Return, and Play the Game Tonight into his list of favorites when he finally realizes that he's somehow spent all evening doing nothing but listening to music, and should actually have been asleep awhile ago.

Bits of different songs flit through his mind as he gets ready for bed, and he can already tell he'll be singing them for days to come. But hey, Bones might actually like Dust in the Wind, and since they both have time on their hands, this could be the perfect opportunity to finally convince his friend that there's nothing wrong with his taste in music.

PROMPT: COMANCHE

Jim isn't quite sure why they're visiting Comanche, Texas, and he doesn't think he really wants to know. What he does know is that Bones had insisted they come here (during the summer, no less, which means it's hot as hell out) for some _camping_, of all things. It's really not what he expected, or especially wanted, to be doing with his time off. Then again, he _did_ want to spend time with his best friend, and if camping in Texas is what it takes, then camping in Texas is what he'll do.

It...actually isn't as bad as he might have thought it would be, given that he's never actually been camping before (and no, wilderness survival training totally does not count, as far as he's concerned) and has frequently scoffed at the idea of doing so.

They cook over a fire and and sit around for most of the time, talking or just enjoying each other's presence. Somehow Jim doesn't get tired of this, even after three days of it, and he finds himself actually kind of sad when they have to pack up and head back to the Academy. Bones seems in much better a mood for the outing, so Jim is inclined to call it a success all around. And hey, they always have next summer.

PROMPT: FAMILY

Jim has never exactly been close to his family. It had been harder when he'd been younger, not having anyone he felt like he could really count on. That's probably the reason he's never really felt very comfortable getting close to anyone else, either. If he couldn't trust his family, he sure as hell couldn't trust some stranger who knew nothing about him (or worse, thought they knew a lot because they'd known his father).

And then he'd met Bones. He couldn't even say exactly why he'd taken to the other man so easily, just that he had. Maybe it was that he'd finally found someone who was worse off than he was, maybe it was that Bones hadn't really seemed to trust him either. Whatever the reason, they'd defied the odds and become close friends.

Jim hadn't even realized what he'd been missing, really, nor what he'd found in his friend. At least, not until Bones left the Academy one summer to go back home and hadn't come back when he was supposed to. It was then, finally, that Jim realized he'd come to think of Bones as his family. He'd done everything he could to get a hold of Bones (even going so far as to actually _go to Georgia_ to try to find him), and when that hadn't worked, he'd fretted silently until Bones showed up a week later, none the worse for wear.

They'd had a huge fight over it that led to neither of them speaking to the other for another week on top of that, which gave Jim plenty of time to evaluate just why he was so angry over the whole thing. And eventually they'd both apologized - Jim for overreacting and Bones for not telling Jim what was going on in the first place - at which point Jim had figured out that Bones was the only person he'd ever cared that much about.

It'd been a small leap from there to decide that Bones was family, and Jim even told him so (which may have devolved into a round of manly back-patting and getting rather spectacularly drunk, but hey, that's just how they do things).

PROMPT: RESERVOIR

Jim wasn't entirely certain if _The Blood Reservoir_ was a complete misnomer for the restaurant he and Bones were currently standing in front of or not. He kind of hoped so because really, it just didn't bring up the proper mental images to put him in the mood to eat.

And really, he wasn't sure why they were going to a Klingon restaurant, of all things, anyway. There were plenty of other types of food available on Starbase 18, none of which he had heard as many revolting things about as Klingon food. Yet still, all it had taken was a little pushing - 'When are we going to get another chance to try Klingon food, Jim?' - for him to agree to it. At least Bones was a doctor; if Jim ended up feeling miserable after their meal, he could always complain until Bones gave him something to make him feel better.

It...ended up not being as bad as expected. The one thing he could definitely identify was octopus, so what to order was a no-brainer. It wasn't all that much different than squid, so Jim counted it as a success. Especially considering that Bones managed to order something that looked like it might still be alive. Not to mention the bloodwine, which may or may not have actually had blood, but that didn't matter so much as the fact that Bones was absolutely stinking drunk after drinking hardly any of it.

The trek back to Bones' quarters was long and tiring, but considering how much Bones was raving about how much he'd liked the meal (and who would have guessed that would happen?), Jim was willing to call it a good evening.

PROMPT: WANT

Jim Kirk has wanted a lot of things in his life, most of which he hasn't really ever gotten. First and foremost, he wanted a dad, not just as a kid but even now. It's one of life's little cruelties, he guesses, that he lost that chance mere seconds after he was born. Oh, there'd been stepdads, but none of them had ever given a flying fuck about him, and he'd returned the feeling wholeheartedly.

It hadn't just been a dad he was missing, though, but his mom and brother, too. None of them had ever been close to one another (well, maybe Sam and his mom had been before he was born), and consequently, Jim had always felt very alone. All he wanted was someone to love him and be proud of him and take care of him. But none of that was to be, and by now, Jim's mostly given up on hoping it might happen.

Jim wants to make something of his life, something he can be proud of and which is based entirely on his own merits and hard work. Even earning captaincy of the Enterprise has a lingering taint of the events that caused the death of his father. He can't wait to actually get out there on a mission of his own and make his own way.

The one thing Jim never really thought to want was a best friend. He'd been sufficiently different from everyone else for his whole life that few of his peers really wanted much to do with him. And really, he hadn't exactly wanted much to do with them either (well, at least on a friendship level; sex was another story entirely).

So naturally, a best friend is the one thing the universe has seen fit to give him, no bones about it. One day, someone was dropped practically in his lap; someone who was like him, saw the bitter edge to life but didn't let it stop him from trying to make his own way anyway. And while at one time, having Bones as a best friend may not have been anything Jim could have dreamt up, now he can't think of anyone or anything he'd rather have.

PROMPT: MAUDLIN

Everyone seemed to think that Jim got drunk with Bones on a regular basis, but there were several things wrong with that assumption. First of all, Jim very seldom got drunk anymore at all, by himself or otherwise. Yes, he liked a good drink now and again, but he'd given up drunken fights as a thing of the past once he'd really decided to give it a go at the Academy. He couldn't very well expect to make it anywhere substantial if he wasn't willing to clean up his act, at least a little bit.

The second thing was that even if Jim did get drunk often, he most certainly wouldn't do it with Bones. Yes, Bones was his best friend, and yes, they did do almost everything together, which meant that they _had_ actually gotten drunk together several times before. It was those times that convinced Jim he really would be happy enough never to do so again. Because see, Bones was a rather maudlin drunk.

At first it was fine, because Jim just wanted someone to hang around with, to help get his footing in this new life. But once he'd really settled in, he realized just how depressing it was to go out drinking when you knew that your night would end with almost tearful stories about Bones' family or his ex-wife. And boy, could Bones go on. Jim could, and still did, occasionally get drunk with Bones, but only when Bones actually needed it. He was willing to do that in the name of friendship, but otherwise he figured his drinking time should be fun.

Amusingly enough, Sulu turned out to be one of the most fun drunks Jim had ever met.

PROMPT: CANDLES

Jim Kirk hadn't been one to burn the candle at both ends, hadn't ever really needed to. It had been remarkably easy to be a lazy student through his teenage years, and any job he'd held after getting out of high school had been laughable. Sure, once in awhile he'd go out partying or drinking the night before he had to be up early, but he'd somehow still managed to get a decent amount of sleep in the meantime.

That only lasted until he got to Starfleet Academy, however. And while one might assume that he took the opportunity to party 24/7, one would be wrong. More often than not, Jim could be found up late studying material on the latest warp engine upgrades or negotiation tactics, or really, anything that caught his fancy. For the first time in his life, he really felt free to just do that.

Not that anyone would have stopped him studying when he was younger (they probably would have been thrilled, actually), but it was the first time he could just be who he wanted to be without having to live in the shadow of his father or Sam.

So, he took it for what it was worth, burning the candle at both ends more often than not, preparing himself as best he could for whatever came after graduation.

PROMPT: SURVIVE

Jim Kirk had been known to survive many things, no matter the odds against him. He'd survived a childhood where no one cared about him (well, they cared, but no one ever showed it or had time for him), including multiple incidents of death-defying stunts like driving his step-dad's car off a cliff. He'd survived innumerable fights throughout high school, and win or lose, he could always smile because he gave as good as he got.

He'd survived the intervening years between high school and the Academy, directionless and looking for a purpose in one shit job after another. He'd survived his time at the Academy, which granted, wasn't nearly as bad as any of the rest of it, but for all his confidence and belief that he could win in any given situation, he was still afraid of failure.

He (and the Enterprise, of course) had survived the run-in with Nero, even coming out on top for once, which Jim took as a sign that turning his life around and actually risking it for a good cause was one hundred percent worth it. And since then, he'd survived who knew how many away missions and ship disasters (though some of his crew hadn't, and that got to him every time).

But this? Jim just didn't know how he was supposed to survive finding out that his best friend, the only person he'd ever _known_ he could count on in any situation, was in love with him.

PROMPT: FALLING

Jim felt as though he'd been falling forever. He was sure that wasn't possible, did in fact remember plenty of times when he hadn't been falling, but that didn't mean that the current fall seemed any shorter. If it could even actually be called a fall. More accurately, he was drifting through space on the momentum of being expelled from the shuttle, but it felt like falling, so that's what he went with.

The shuttle had long since exploded, and bits of debris continued to drift with him. It was actually pretty boring, seeing the same stuff floating along with him, especially given that he figured he had maybe half an hour left before his suit ran out of air and he was left gasping in the vacuum of space. He really didn't want his last view to be of a chunk of the outer hull that read 'utt'.

The falling continued, on and on, until Jim had almost decided he'd rather the air just ran out so he didn't have to stay adrift anymore. Then again, as the air ran low, his mind started playing tricks on him, playing out the worst and best of his life against the backdrop of the stars. He didn't mind so much the memories of meeting Bones or taking command of the Enterprise for the first time, but he really could have done without those of his mother nearly dying when he was 15 and the first time he'd had to kill someone.

As the memories washed over him, it got harder and harder to tell what was real and what wasn't. Enough of his life had been spent in space for him to have serious doubts. Was that actually the Enterprise he was seeing, or just a figment of his oxygen-starved mind?

PROMPT: SALUTE

The one thing Kirk could say that he unequivocally likes about Spock is his salute. Well, of course, it's actually a Vulcan salute, and thus not exclusive to Spock, but that doesn't matter a whole lot. Especially given that Vulcan is gone and he probably won't be seeing much of that salute at all if it doesn't come from Spock. But that's beside the point, really.

The point is that Kirk likes the salute, wishes that maybe Starfleet had something similar. Instead, they've got...well, nothing. Nothing quite so elegant and useful, anyway. There are handshakes and standard greetings, but Jim has to wonder why there isn't some parting gesture in their culture. He's never known what to say to friends he's had to leave. Goodbye? See you later? Have a nice life? They're all woefully inadequate sentiments when it's someone you really care about. Maybe he'll just have to come up with his own salute.

PROMPT: EXCUSE

Excuses were for other beings, or so Jim Kirk had always believed. He'd had no need to come up with a reason for why he wasn't someplace he should have been, or why his homework wasn't done, or why he'd gotten into trouble again that week. If he did or didn't want to do something, that's what happened, simple as that.

And he'd never really had any problems with that. His family never cared where he was or what he did, as long as he wasn't inconveniencing them. His friends were always a loose bunch, sliding in and out of doing things together as they saw fit. Even his teachers learned not to expect things of him, and since he always managed to pass his classes, he wasn't too bothered by it.

The Academy proved to be no different. Yes, he had more responsibilities and took them more seriously than he had done before, but if something didn't get done, he still never made excuses. Things began to change when he met Bones. Bones, who wouldn't put up with any of his bullshit and actually wanted to know why Jim hadn't done something or been where he said he would. Even then, Jim refused to make something up if he didn't actually have a reason.

And if one might expect that he'd certainly need excuses for things as captain of a starship, well, one just didn't know Jim Kirk very well, that was all. He'd begun to realize that explaining his reasons for doing things didn't have to mean making excuses, which generally helped when he had to communicate with Starfleet; they were big on reasons, and not so much on excuses.

So, Jim was kind of floored the day he finally found himself needing to use an excuse, especially to a 10-year-old girl. "Joanna, I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he began, carefully looking only at her face on the screen and not over at Bones' unconscious form on the biobed, "but your dad's off the ship on an away mission right now. He promised he'd call you to make up for missing your call just as soon as he got back."

She looked sad as she ended the call with a, "thanks, Uncle Jim," but it was nothing compared to how Jim was sure she'd have looked if he'd told her the truth instead of making up an excuse.


End file.
